My aunt walked in the room and said, “Girls,” she paused and nodded her head. Immediately my sister, my cousin, and I ran into the other room together.

It was the cold winter of 2013, and it was snowing outside. “How many minutes till we’re there?” I asked anxiously while sitting in the backseat of my dad’s Subaru. I was getting annoyed when my sister continued to sing a stupid song for the fifth time. We were on our way to my grandma’s house.

After five and a half hours of being stuck in the car that pokes needles in your legs and back, with one bathroom break, I was getting ready to pile out. I ran up the sidewalk and walked into my grandma’s house and said, “Grandma, we’re here!” She stood up from the couch, walked toward me, gave me a hug, and asked how the trip went. I told her it was long, but it was worth it. After all four of us--my mom, my dad, my sister, Sydney, and I--unpacked our stuff, we flopped on the couches and relaxed. 

“You guys are getting pretty big,” my grandma said with a small chuckle. She then looked directly at me, “You look just like me when I was a little girl. Would you like to see?” Ok, not that I didn’t want to see, but whether I wanted to or not I wasn’t going to say no. We went to her bedroom and she picked up a little picture that was tucked inside the frame of her mirror. As she handed the black and white photo to me I thought to myself, wow! She did look a lot like me!

“Grandma, I didn’t realize how much we looked alike until you showed me that picture. I love your braids, but what happened to them?”

“Well, I had them cut, and I still have them in an envelope.”

“Can I see them? I mean, if you don’t mind.”

She opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, dug through some stuff and pulled out the envelope. I sat in awe as she pulled out the slick brown braids that were tightly put together by a pony tail. “That’s really cool!” She held up the braids in comparison to my own hair.

That night I told my parents how awesome the braids were and how awesome my grandma was.

One year later I came home from school and began to get ready for dance when my dad called for my sister and me to come downstairs; he told us that my grandma had lung cancer and walking pneumonia. We all hugged and cried together.

One weekend a year after my dad told my sister and I about my grandma’s condition, my dad was at my grandma’s house. We were on our way back to my grandma’s house to surprise my dad and knowing my grandma was going to pass.
When we got there I walked in the front door and to the left was a room that held all my aunts and one of my uncles.

They were all huddled around a bed where my grandma lay. I was very uncomfortable. I walked up to the huddle and they cleared a way for me to see her. I saw her, which made me want to throw up and then cry myself to sleep. Her skin was purple and rubbery. She also looked skinnier than paper. Soon after the frog in my throat finally went away.

Later that night I finally fell asleep. At around 1:30 my aunt walked in the room and said, “Girls,” she paused and nodded her head. Immediately my sister, my cousin, and I ran into the room my grandma was laying in before. When we walked in we saw her and turned toward each other and cried. I held my sister and my cousin so tightly and BAM! Their heads could have popped off.

I had to go to her funeral on HER birthday. Every time I looked at her in her casket I swore she was still breathing. I could see her chest moved up and down and she was full of life again, but she wasn’t. She didn’t look like herself. She didn’t get up from laying down and gave me a huge hug like she used to. She was a forever friend and now she wasn’t.

I had never felt so much pain in my life, like the waves washed me up on shore and decided to leave some water in my throat. At least the braids helped me remember the happy memories I had with my grandma instead of the painful ones of her lying in bed gasping for air as she slowly drifted, deeply, dangerously away.
Five months after her passing we went back to her house and started dividing her and my grandpa’s things. It started with my parents and my aunts and my uncles, but finally, at the end of the day, it was us grandkids’ turn. We went by age, and I, being one of the youngest grandkids was impatient and didn’t get the first afghan I wanted. Out of the blue it was my turn. I picked a smaller one and gave it a shot; it wasn’t very soft but it kept me very warm.

A few weeks after I had gotten the afghan I had a dream that I was walking with my friends in school and then I appeared in a shining white room. There was a door at the end of the small room. I looked around the room in panic for my friends. Suddenly the door opened and my grandma walked into the room. I was standing in the middle of the empty white room, she looked around the room in desperation, and finally she looked at me. I ran to her and gave her a huge, heartfelt hug. We hesitated for a little while in our hug.

“Oh, I miss you.” I told her.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” she said.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We were still in our hug, that’s when I woke up. I only had a few seconds with her but they were the best few seconds of my life.